


Act > Flirt

by Anonymous



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: .........bad, Gen, Nonbinary Frisk, PTA Sans, Selective Mute Frisk, additional character is fuckign helen, all aboard the regret train i am your driver for today, basically was supposed to be some funny thing abt sans shutting down some transphobic soccer mom??, but then, help i tried writing humour and accidentally gave it plot and made all the extra characters deep, it also, it went, it's SORT OF funny!!! i promise, mainly sans and frisk chilling here, really isn't, skeledad is best dad, toriel is only there at the beginning, warning for abuse mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 23:03:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5351654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk is involved in a fight at school. Skeledad Sans is there to help, but they've got things covered. (legitimately I tried writing a funny PTA Sans thing and???? I made it?? sad???????? help)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Act > Flirt

**Author's Note:**

> Uh yeah in case you didn't notice it in the clusterheck of tags up there, warning for child abuse mention and just abuse in general. frisk and their friend have bad biological families.

"Sans?" Her voice echoed down the hall and bounced softly against his skull. By the time she'd reached the bedroom, he was lying casually on top of the covers in his usual clothing, _sans_ hoodie.

"Oh, I'm glad I didn't wake you. What time did you return home last night? I don't quite recall." He watched her move busily around the room over the top of his book (currently the exterior was that of a joke book, but Sans himself was perusing the pages of the quantum physics book inside), dropping a stack of paperwork almost as tall as Sans on the dresser with a heavy _thunk_ and looking through the closet for a pair of robes.

"eh, the usual time. you were fast asleep when i got in. I'm glad I didn't wake ya." He turned the page. "you should have told me you were playing paintball today. I would've joined in. I'm a _dead_ shot y'know."

His eyes softened at the sound of Toriel's chuckle. "You know I would not involve myself in extreme sports without inviting you along, dear." She turned back to him with a pair of robes folded neatly over her arm. "One of the children was slightly overzealous in their fingerpainting today. I'm afraid I was caught in the crossfire."

Sans turned his eyes politely back to his book as Toriel removed her paint-splattered clothing to reveal a simple white dress shirt and matching pants beneath, before slipping her clean robes on and gathering the dirty ones- destined for the laundry -in one hand. With the other, she retrieved the Sans-high stack of reports and tests before turning and leaning down to press a kiss on Sans' forehead. "Unfortunately, I can't stay. I worry for the state of the school when I leave Temmie in charge for too long."

Sans blinked away the faint blue haze on his cheekbones and raised a browbone. "you left Temmie in charge? Temmie as in... 'would do anything for Temmieflakes'? Temmieflakes being... pieces of torn up construction paper? I can't say she'd be my first choice for running a co-species elementary school, but, hey." He shrugged, grinning. "to each their own, y'know? I'm sure with that armour of hers, she'll be just fine."

Toriel stood frozen for a moment. "Um. Please excuse me!" And then she was a flurry of pale fur and purple robes out the bedroom door and down the stairs and- oh, yes, out the front door too. He heard the car start up before the front door opened again and she called "Love you, Sans! See you later!" He laughed. "see you, Tori." He heard the door go to close again before- "Also, Sans! I forgot, my apologies, but you will have to attend the meeting at Frisk's school this afternoon on your own! I have a PTA meeting on at the same time- sorry!" And with that, the door slammed shut, and the car pulled away.

Sans sighed, in the silence of his empty home. But he was smiling, too. One might observe that he was always smiling- considering being a skeleton hardly allowed for much skin for facial expressions -but this was a true smile, born of love, and hard-won peace. It was a smile that spoke of hope, of happiness. It was a smile that promised a bad time to Mrs. Helen Boon, the mother of one of Frisk's classmates, should this meeting prove to be another of her complaints about them. Sans carefully put his book to one side, untaped the reading glasses from his skull, and took the scenic route to Frisk's school.

 

 

He got there exactly thirty seconds late. That was because well-crafted pranks take, at a bare minimum, fifteen seconds to deploy, each. He knew it was thirty seconds because he had been patiently waiting out the hours on the other side of town at Grillby's II, and counting down the minutes until he could take a shortcut down the alley and arrive at the entrance to the middle school Frisk attended precisely on time. But at the principal's office, he arrived thirty seconds late, and grinned effortlessly at his kid when they looked up.

He meandered over to the principle's desk, and held out his hand in a polite greeting. He sat down after shaking Mr. Bennet's hand, blatantly sparing no glances to the other side of the room, where an angry woman with a dirty blonde A-line haircut had her arm wrapped around the shoulders of a harassed looking eleven-year-old boy, who looked to be leaning as far as he could away from his mother without letting her notice his none-too-subtle attempts at escape.

Sans eyed Frisk's rapid hand signing before turning back to the principle. "so, Benny," he began, "what's the problem this time?" While his own hands moved to respond to Frisk behind the desk. Mr. Bennet sighed. "Well, Sans-" "Excuse me, Mr. Bennet," the woman interjected rudely, "but since when are you on a first-name basis with this, this-" she waved the hand that wasn't strangling the life from her son in Sans' general direction. "This skeleton? I expect to be treated equally to the 'father' " _yikes_ , she even did the bunny-ears-quotation-marks in the air with her fingers, "of the girl who is ruining my son's life and education!" She looked like she was going to stand up and start throwing down the worst mix tape of 2002, but Sans' patience was already at its end the moment she called Frisk a girl.

"hey, Helen." He didn't even need to look at Frisk to know they were deep in a morose and uncomfortable staring contest with their clenched hands in their lap. Sans remembered the expression that would be on their face, the one they wore whenever an angry adult tried to tell them what their gender was. It was the expression Frisk wore when they told Sans about how their parents abused the shit out of their eight-year-old child for their gender and all things besides. Frisk had been like a training dummy to them, and gender was just one of the boxing gloves they used to beat the shit out of them.

He made sure he had Boon's full attention before he spoke again, staring directly into her eyes. She was already uncomfortable. "Frisk is not a girl." He blinked, and the white pinpoints of his pupils vanished. Helen found herself staring into empty black sockets above a grinning set of bleached-white teeth. "How many times do I have to correct you?" Helen watched, sweating, as Sans very slowly removed his hand from his pocket and placed it on the armrest, entirely relaxed and looking all the more horrifying for it. "I hope, for your sake, that this is the last time." The principle didn't move, but his mouth was pursed. He and Frisk avoided eye contact for fear that they would both burst into laughter and ruin the moment.

"Ah- ah! You can't threaten me like that! Mr. Bennet!! Did you see the way he just threatened me? Have him removed! Have his 'child' removed! That way, my son and all the other normal humans at this school won't have to worry about our children being, being- corrupted! By these sorts of, of delinquents! I, for one, am sick of it! And I'm not bringing species into this, by the way, Mr. Snowdin," Sans' eyelids drooped but his sockets remained dangerously void of light. "I am perfectly fine with monsters! One of my neighbours is a monster, and my husband talked to him the other day- complimented him on his garden, in fact. But I don't let my children go out to play when it's dark outside, so I wouldn't let them play with the monster, either! It's just good parenting." She adjusted her arm around her son's shoulders, who still refused to look in her direction. "Right, son?" She glared at the back of his head. Then, when he still ignored the heat of her eyes on his skull, she shook him roughly. "Sean! Look at me when I'm talking to you." Sans exchanged glances with the principal, eyes now no longer devoid of white sparks. Before either of them moved to intervene, Frisk spoke.

"Sean."

He looked up immediately. Sans and Benny looked at him, and Sans noticed for the first time the bruise blossoming over one eye.

Frisk took a deep breath, and twisted their hands in their lap. "You need," they breathed out quietly. "You need to stand up to her sometime," they mumbled. Though Frisk's voice was small in the large room, it echoed like a thunderclap on a clear day and was twice as rare.

Sean's jaw dropped, and his gaze fell to the floor. He seemed to collect himself, and squared his shoulders as he turned to face his mother. She gaped at the sight of his face. Roughly, she grabbed his head in her hands and jerked it around to get a closer look at the bruise. He clenched his jaw and grabbed her wrists. "Mom, ow." He ripped her hands off his face and reclaimed control of his head. "Can you be more careful, or-or s-something?" He let go of her hands like they were burning him and leaned back in his chair to cross his arms over his chest, and returned to sullenly staring off into the corner of the room.

Frisk's inner, screaming panic was calmed by a gentle, skeletal hand on their shoulder. Sans' eyes softened reassuringly, and Frisk relaxed. "you did good, kid. proud of you." They beamed.

Helen sat, shocked. The moment she opened her mouth with rage smeared across her features, Benny interrupted. "Yes, Helen, I believe that is quite enough." His tone was firm. "Your son has had a rough day, and I'm certain that he deserves some modicum of kindness at the moment. Especially," he added, leaning forward to cast a stern glance over her, "from his mother." He leaned back. "If we may continue?" He asked, in a way that made the rhetoric obvious even to Helen. After a few moments of silence, during which her jaw clenched and unclenched like she was chewing a particularly sticky saltwater taffy and was hellbent on finishing it at the languid pace of a cow chewing its cud, he strode forth. "Now that civility has been restored, we may get back to the matter at hand."

"Today, Frisk and Sean were involved a fight, unfortunately." Helen remained silent. "It would appear that Sean has a tendency to lose his temper, which results in physical fighting with other students. As you already know, Helen, as he has already come close to being suspended twice on accounts of physical assault." He paused. "Perhaps good parenting requires more than compliance with legal curfew." Frisk giggled, then nervously covered their mouth with their hands. Sans ruffled their hair, and Frisk let their hands drop. Benny continued, "Frisk, on the other hand, despite having been in more fights than Sean, has never been the instigator. Every witness account reports that Frisk never fights back- rather, they dodge. Quite..." He rummaged around the paperwork on his desk for a moment. "Quite spectacularly, in fact. Several teachers have recommended that Frisk sign up with a martial arts class, or gymnastics, if they haven't already. If, of course," Benny winked at Sans, "you're alright with me taking a less-than-serious approach to the fact that your child is on the receiving end of about three fights per week on average."

Sans laughed, a deep rumble in his ribs. "as long as they're not getting hurt, they're not hurting anyone else, and they're enjoying themself," he winked down at Frisk, and they returned the gesture with a double thumbs up, "then I'm not bothered."

Benny smiled, then his face smoothed over in seriousness. "Though there is the matter of Frisk's own inclination towards..." He looked over the paperwork again. "Flirting. With everyone who fights them. Every single person." He glanced back up at Sans. "Every one."

Sans winked.

The principal laughed. He rubbed his face with one hand, and had Frisk not been the cause of innumerous blushes over the years, they wouldn't have noticed two spots of light red beneath the dark skin of Mr. Bennet's cheeks.

"Surprisingly, that tends to end the fight. Unfortunately, today..." He picked one sheet from the pile. "After Sean attempted to hit Frisk during first lunch break, Frisk flirted with him, which apparently lead Sean to accidentally punch himself in the face, trip over a chair, and then disappear for two periods. During which time..." He ran a finger down another form. "Frisk was also missing from their classes. Now, the fight by itself was enough to warrant the call home, but truancy tipped the scales. Which is why I've had to call you both in. Fortunately, I know these kids, and they have given me a rational, reasonable explanation as to what happened today, and so this meeting is little more than a formality. I've been lead to believe that this won't happen again, and as long as the parents and guardians of these students are able to formally agree that it won't, this problem shouldn't affect their school records in any way. So," Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair, hands resting comfortably on his stomach. "Are you able to agree that this won't happen again?"

"Benny, you know Frisk's word is as good as done," Sans grinned. Mr. Bennet smiled.

"Mrs. Boon?" Sans and Frisk turned to look at her like they'd forgotten she was there. She was trembling with tension, shoulders hunched.

Sans turned back to look at Frisk when he felt their gentle touch on his arm. They signed something quickly to him, far too fast for Mr. Bennet to keep up, watching as he was only from the corner of his eye, though he did see ' **told me** ', ' **bruises** ', ' **mom** ', ' **dad** ', ' **hurt** ', and ' **like me** '. It was enough, and it made him sad. The jovialty from before faded from his expression like leaves blown away by the wind as he watched Helen.

Noticed for the first time where one of her long sleeves had ridden up, there were dark bruises around her wrist. Like hand marks.

"Sans, Frisk. You two are free to go. Sean, could you please wait out in the hall for a few minutes while I speak with your mother?"

Sans met his gaze. Nodded. When Mr. Bennet looked at Frisk, they were smiling at him. As Sans got up and walked towards the door, they signed something quickly to him. ' **Help her.** ' Mr. Bennet nodded, and signed carefully back. ' **In any way I can.** '

When Frisk and Sean joined Sans in the hallway, they were having a silent conversation. Sans smiled, and walked off slowly down the hall. Frisk would catch up when they were ready.

 

 

In the meantime, Sans had two whoopie cushions to remove from the seats of Helen's car.

**Author's Note:**

> don't worry, mr. bennet knows that sans isn't on the market. benny and toriel are pretty good friends- principals gotta stick together in these trying times, yknow. but YOU try not blushing when a skeleton winks at you. goddamn.
> 
> btw helen and sean and mr bennet aren't like, ocs, or anything. i legitimately made the shit out of them as i went along. did NOT mean to give them so much depth??? help (also sean is pronounced shaun, eyah, i wanted to create a child with a name that a typical middle-aged white suburban mom would think was unique enough for their lil snowflake. then i sort of lost the whole 'depthless racist transphobe' characterisation i was going for with helen. well. never thought i'd type that sentence out?)
> 
> also, as always, if you notice any errors or mistakes, tell me so i can correct it. i just wrote this in like. 30 minutes? idk, it's 3 am. i like it though.


End file.
